


We Fall Together

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Redemption, Will Has Stitches, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26525302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will has returned home from the hospital, knowing his time spent healing from Hannibal's wound has changed him irrevocably. What will he do when he comes face to face with the man that gave him his stitches?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	We Fall Together

_I lost my way all the way to you,_  
_And in you, I found my way._  
_-Atticus_

* * *

Will took a sip from the glass of brandy clasped loosely in his hand, his head hanging low as his hair fell into his eyes in a wild disarray. The house didn’t feel the same since his return from the hospital. Every corner and piece of furniture, the plates in his cabinets and the clothes hanging in his closet felt as if they belonged to someone else, an impostor that sometimes wore his skin and used his voice when he spoke. The mind, though… his mind felt completely separate from the man that sat in his home, clasping the brandy. His dogs were still at Jack’s, scheduled to return to his care in the next few days when he could safely move around the house without aggravating his stitches. Until then, the silence that filled the space that had once been his sanctuary suffocated him. The order that had been his very existence had been shattered, thrown into chaos by the one man who had doomed him to an existence of living a life that could never be fulfilling in the way it should be. Every fiber of his being wanted to stand, to wail and thrash, to tear the clean and neat place that had been his old life until nothing remained but a pile of rubble. He longed for color and chaos, feeling anything but the numbness that was slowly taking over, so slowly, he hadn’t realized it had been happening until it was too late. The only person who could give him what he needed left him in need of the stitches that pulled at his abdomen, reminding him of the consequences of caring. He would take a thousand cuts in place of the emotional destruction Hannibal Lecter had left in his wake. The hole in his heart was cavernous; the space so vast and dark that Will feared that if it was examined too closely, he would fall through into the despair he could feel welling up from the invisible wound where his heart had once been whole. He knew instinctively that if he fell into its depths, there would be no return from the place it took him. _If only Hannibal knew_ he thought bitterly, _that all he had to do was try to kill me and leave me to bleed out on the floor from the consequences of his contrived pain and I would come crawling back as the dark being he wanted me to be._

He lifted the tumbler to his lips, intent on drowning out the memories of the hurt and betrayal in Hannibal’s eyes as he had cut into his flesh, the electrifying feeling of his hands holding him tenderly as Will's life bled out around him. The sound of Hannibal’s voice, thick with sorrow had caressed him, comforted him as his mind tried to deal with the hot agony of the wound he had inflicted. Will tipped his head back, needing the numb forgetfulness the alcohol would bring, only to find the glass empty. _Of course it’s empty. You’re drinking like you want to die from it._ Groaning, he leaned back into his couch and closed his eyes, intent on standing to refill his glass once he found the energy to do so. The stitches in his side burned as they pulled, the ache ferocious as he got his feet beneath him. The effort the movement took was monumental; every move he made burned away the little stores of energy he had, leaving him panting with exhaustion by the time he stood. His head was spinning, his mouth dry, and for a moment he feared was going to vomit. He clutched the side of the couch, unwilling to let himself fall back to it, knowing that if he did he wouldn’t be standing back up. He wanted his bed, his sheets, the normalcy and comfort he hoped they would bring him. The likelihood of his nightmares returning full force was high, but he would rather have a thousand bouts of night terrors in his own clothes and confined to his own space than spend another moment of peaceful sleep within the prison the hospital had become. 

When his head stopped spinning, Will walked carefully to the sink, forgoing another glass of alcohol in favor of filling his glass with cold, clear water. He leaned into the counter, bracing himself against the solid surface as he drank the glass down, panting as he refilled it. The house was filling with the familiar shadows of night, elongating and encroaching on the places that had been enveloped with light only hours before. The exhaustion from his journey burned through his muscles as Will finished his second glass before filling it for the third time, intent on taking it to bed with him. Clutching the tumbler, he turned towards the long hall leading to his bedroom, his eyes burning tiredly as he made his way down the hall. A shadow pulled itself free of the darkness of the depths at the back of the hall, a figure ensconced in all black, his hair shining brightly in the low light still left within the house. Will’s eyes widened as his mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. The face staring back at him was set in an immobile mask, devoid of all emotion except cold calculation. The glass fell from Will’s hand shattering into a thousand musical pieces as it hit the hardwood floor, the sound staccato in its finality. The last thing he saw before he followed it to the ground was the shining black shoes moving quickly towards him as if intent on preventing his fall. Will welcomed the void with open arms, desperate to escape the madness his mind had created. _No. He can't be here. Your mind has broken and your heart betrayed you. He is gone. You have to let him go._

***

Will surfaced from the dark slowly, the sensation of cool, feathery touches against his skin rousing him from his slumber. It took him a moment to gain his bearings as he enjoyed the cold cloth sweeping across his forehead. A quiet, contented moan escaped his lips as it moved down his cheeks and neck, tracing a comforting path along his skin. He was exhausted, more tired than he could ever remember being. Closing his eyes, he weakly succumbed to the careful fingers lifting his arm to bathe him. The sensation was soothing, the hands administering careful sweeps of the cloth gentle as he drifted. The weight on the bed shifted as his other arm was lifted and cleaned before the bedclothes were peeled back to expose the bandage on his side. Probing fingers gingerly inspected the wound as he allowed himself to drift, his eyes remaining closed in the hopes of falling back to sleep. 

“Are you awake?” Will’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the deep, cultured voice issuing forth from the side of the bed. His skin tightened unconsciously at the sound, breath catching in his throat as he struggled to control the sudden thrashing of his heart. Glancing around in the darkness, he discovered his eyes had not been playing tricks on him in the hall. Hannibal sat next to him on the bed, hands still holding the cloth that he had used to clean him. Their eyes met warily and Will tried to force himself to speak, but he couldn't find the words to express what he wanted to say. The moment stretched before them, pulling at Will like a magnet, ever in the direction of the man perched on the side of the bed. Hannibal cleared his throat and the moment broke pulling Will fully into the present. The sob that escaped his throat was filled with mingling elation and despair as he grounded himself in the reality of the sight before him. Something inside broke, a chain barring his speech and squeezing his heart loosening as he breathed fully for the first time since waking.

“I thought you ran off to Europe,” he rasped, his voice grating and dry. The side of Hannibal’s mouth quirked up at the corner, cautious humor filling his eyes as he reached for the glass of water he had retrieved, handing it to Will as he stood.

“Not yet, but the plan remains," Hannibal said, staring down at Will from where he stood. "Before I can leave, you and I have a goodbye left between us. I cannot move forward without forgiveness, nor will you be able to let me go should we not have the opportunity to share this moment. A moment, please while I dispose of this cloth." Will nodded and Hannibal walked swiftly to the bathroom, tossing the cloth into the hamper before opening the medicine cabinet. Finding gauze and a prescription antiseptic, he moved back to the bed, carefully avoiding Will's steady gaze. He stared at the uncovered bandage before gesturing towards the wound. “You have bled through your bandage, and I must inspect it to ensure none of your stitches have torn. Are you comfortable where you are?” Will nodded and let his head drop back, wincing as the tape holding the gauze to his side pulled at his skin. Hannibal’s fingers instantly soothed, caressing the irritated flesh as he inspected the stitching. Will had been lucky; although the stitches had taken some strain, none of them had broken. Hannibal breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the bottle of antiseptic, wincing at the burning smell. Carefully, he wet a cotton pad and cleaned the wound, checking the damage as the blood was cleared.

“How bad is it?” Will asked, his voice strained. Hannibal placed a fresh bandage over the wound, taping it in place.

“No broken stitches, just a pull to the skin. I’ve cleaned the blood from your skin. You should be fine until your next visit with your physician.” Will nodded, tracing careful fingers over the fresh gauze as Hannibal returned the items he used back to their respective places. He returned to the beside, watching Will as he nestled into the covers, his heart beating hard in his chest. Will's half lidded eyes drank in the appearance of the doctor, mapping his features as if he was a feast and Will was starving. He noted that Hannibal was doing much the same, his eyes roaming hungrily along Will’s form, pausing on his lips, his neck, his uncovered chest. 

“Will-”

“Han-”

They grinned without humor at one another, Hannibal gesturing to Will to continue. Will cleared his throat nervously, hoping the words would come to him. _Please._

“You said we still have a goodbye left between us. What do you mean?” Hannibal looked pained. He lifted a hand, cupping Will’s cheek, relishing in the texture of his skin as a thumb caressed the side of his face. Will's eyes drifted closed as he leaned into the touch, the tenderness in it healing a small piece of his heart.

“I couldn’t leave,” Hannibal murmured, his fingers stroking the skin of Will's jawline. “Not without knowing that I have made the right decision. The events of the evening in my home… they didn’t end as I had hoped. I know now that I may have reacted rashly, given in to the pain of what I perceived as your betrayal. I realize now that we have never truly given all of what we are to one another. I have to know if it’s possible before I give up.” Will’s stomach clenched as he fought back his anger and need, picturing the sweet face of the life he destroyed, remembering the warmth of her blood as it poured down his hands.

“You killed Abigail,” he said through clenched teeth, his breath coming in short bursts. “You almost killed Jack. You pushed Alana from a window. The only people that have ever shown me kindness beyond professional necessity and you chose to take them all from me. How can you expect anything from me but hate?” Even as the words left his lips, he heard them ring false. _Love and hate are truly two ends of one breath._

Hannibal watched his face, his eyes filled with sorrow, unable to look away. Will held his gaze, blue eyes burning fiercely into maroon as he waited for a response.

“I have not acted as I would have with any other circumstance like this one,” Hannibal whispered. Will strained to hear him as the words poured from his lips. “It is as you said in the kitchen, Will. As surely as I have changed you, you have changed me, and despite all we have done to one another, I don’t know if I can live without you.” 

Will’s breath caught in his throat, his chest burning as his stitches pulled. He wanted to scream, cry, beat his fists on the man sitting next to him. With every exhale he hated him, the heat of the emotion burning cold along his skin. He wanted him to know the same pain and loss that caused the cavernous destruction of his heart. While the greatest pain could not end his agony, he was willing to try. He wanted to see Hannibal feel it as he did, break apart as he himself was. The emotions burned along his skin, only half of the coin, changing as his breaths deepened. 

As he inhaled, his heart thrummed to a different tune as it attempted to mend itself, reaching for Hannibal’s remorse. He wanted tender moments and time together; he wanted to run away with Hannibal’s hand in his own. He could feel himself reaching out to pull the doctor to him. He wanted to watch his mouth fall open for an entirely different reason than the shallow breaths he was forcing out of his lungs. The parts of his heart warred as Hannibal watched, trying to find the words to say that would make him understand.

“Will-” The needy, broken sound of his name on Hannibal’s lips shattered Will’s self control. The inhaling breath won over his hatred and Will leaned forward, snagging the front of the dark shirt Hannibal wore, tangling his fingers in the fabric as he hauled the other man to him. A surprised gasp escaped his lips as Will’s own came crashing into his mouth. The kiss was painful and messy, a clash of teeth into a lip as their mouths melded. It was everything they needed it to be; damaging and healing, so arousing that Will’s entire body thrummed with the primal need for more. Hannibal broke the kiss to crawl up his legs, watching for any signs of discomfort as he settled into place with his knees bracketing Will’s hips, bringing their bodies together. Will could feel the press of the doctor's erection against his stomach, his own throbbing in response as his hands found Hannibal's hips. Cradling Will’s face in his hands, he reached for his lips once more. As they tasted one another for the second time, the brush of their lips stayed gentle; a maddening caress of satin skin as their lips sealed. Will wanted to weep for the tenderness of it. Hannibal tilted his face up, deepening their kiss as his hands raked restlessly through Will’s curls. He drank from his mouth as if it was the only thing that would keep him alive, as if severing their connection would break him into pieces. They tasted and clashed as Hannibal licked his way into Will's mouth, mapping the contours as Will whimpered around his tongue. Will tentatively reached out to touch the cloth covered skin of Hannibal’s back and it bowed, the sound it caused searing itself into Will's mind forever; a shaky, desperate breath and a quiet, desperate moan, so vulnerable it made Will want to cradle him in his arms for the rest of his days. 

Will’s trembling fingers found the buttons to Hannibal’s shirt, and as he tugged them open, his patience began to crumble. When a button went flying across the room, Hannibal stilled his hands, helping his pull the rest of the buttons free with shaking fingers. Together they worked Hannibal’s shirt open, sliding the material down his arms as Will’s fingers hungrily traced the contours of his body, memorizing the delights of his skin. He sipped from Hannibal’s lips as his hands moved lower, cupping the erection he felt pressing into his thigh. As he rubbed the hardened flesh with the heel of his hand, his mind went quiet for the first time in months. Their kiss deepened as Will swallowed Hannibal's desperate groans, his mind spinning with the firm realization that their relationship was undergoing an irrevocable shift. _This. This is what we have been avoiding. This is what we mean to one another. I am his, and he is mine. I want. I want him._ Hannibal pulled back, his irises swallowed by his softly swollen pupils as he held Will's gaze.

“Is this truly what you want, Will?” Trembling, Will nodded and reached a hand out to trace the swollen flesh of Hannibal’s lip.

“I don’t want it. I need it,” he said, his voice low and deep in his throat. “We have needed this moment for a long, long time.” His finger traveled lower, brushing across Hannibal’s nipple as he worked his way down his skin. The gasp it caused was stored in Will's mind for future use, when their need wasn't so great. When he reached Hannibal’s belt, he pulled it free, removing it in a single movement before pushing Hannibal to stand. “Take those off and come to bed.” Trembling, Hannibal undid the button to his pants and slid out of them, watching as Will shifted to remove his own boxers, revealing his own hard pink cock, swollen and leaking with his need. As the doctor climbed into bed beside him, Will pulled him close, plunging his hands into Hannibal’s hair as their mouths found eachother in the dark. Hannibal's mouth left his lips to kiss along his collarbones, exploring Will’s neck with gentle bites as his hands moved slowly down his sides. Will gasped and arched as Hannibal’s tongue slid along the the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the sensation sending sparks along his scalp and dancing in showers of color before his eyes. Hannibal’s hands bracketed his hips and pinned them to the bed, the movement so possessive it made Will’s heart thrash wildly in his chest as his breath caught in his throat. The slow explorations of Hannibal’s mouth wound down across his collarbones, working across his upper chest as he teased Will’s nipples to attention with his tongue, blowing gentle puffs of air against them as Will’s moans issued brokenly from his throat. His teeth bit gently into the ridges of his abdominal muscles, soothing the sensitive flesh with his tongue as he traveled lower. By the time he reached Will’s erection, he was insensible with need, pushing against Hannibal’s hold as he unconsciously sought friction. Smiling, Hannibal worked his mouth along Will's hipbones, a last teasing gesture before giving in to Will's restless movements. The first sweep of Hannibal’s tongue across the wet crown of his cock caused Will’s heart to stutter, the noise he made pleading as he arched against Hannibal’s grip. Hannibal caught his gaze and lowered his head, swallowing Will down in a single, hot slide of his mouth. The pressure and heat were almost too good and suddenly Will needed the strength of Hannibal holding his hips in place, just to keep him from climaxing on the spot. Hannibal worked the thick length of his cock deep into his throat, his eyes closing in contentment as Will’s hands found their way unconsciously into his hair. His mouth fell open as Hannibal sheathed him in the tight heat of his mouth, tasting and exploring the hard flesh offered up to him. He varied his speed and pressure, never bringing Will too close to the edge, lapping along his balls when the pressure grew too much.

Will was a breath from begging when Hannibal released him, gazing up the line of his body from his position with dark eyes. Will tugged Hannibal's hair, asking without words for him to come back up, ignoring the sting of his stitches as they kissed. Hannibal’s cock gently grazed against his own, the feeling so intense that he had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to keep his composure. Will reached across the bed to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer and fumbling until his fingers closed around the slim black bottle of lubricant he kept hidden away. Pressing the bottle into Hannibal’s hands, he tilted his hips up in welcome as Hannibal opened the bottle. Trembling, he coated his fingers, watching Will’s face rapturously as he set the bottle down next to him. He gently sought the sensitive flesh of Will's opening, spiraling his fingers as Will's cries kicked up into his throat, but Hannibal quieted his whimpers with gentle kisses as he eased the tip of his finger inside. 

_Oh god, he’s inside me. Mine. I want…_ All thoughts were obliterated as Hannibal worked him open slowly, one finger turning to two as Will’s hips rocked down, searching for more friction. When he added a third finger, thrusting gently as he relaxed Will's body, Hannibal twisted the pads of his fingers up, brushing along the sensitive bundle of nerves he had been avoiding until that moment. Will’s vision went white as the sensation of Hannibal padding his prostate crashed though his body, his limbs shaking as a quiet moan escaped his lips. Hannibal carefully removed his fingers, smiling as he lubed his thick length. Will looked down his body, watching hungrily as Hannibal shuddered at the intimate sensation before opening Will's thighs, lining himself up against his entrance.

“Are you sure?” Will nodded and Hannibal breached his body, hauling Will’s legs around him as he slowly and steadily filled him to bursting. Will panted with need as he took Hannibal in, the emotional release in the sting as good as the physical feeling. As Hannibal seated himself fully, their lips met in the quiet, hushed space between their bodies. As Hannibal began to thrust gently inside him, Will’s heart broke into a thousand pieces, reassembling themselves in the clean, careful intimacy their lovemaking was becoming. Gone was the need to chase the orgasm burning just below the surface of his skin, replaced with the need to be taken, claimed by the man carefully avoiding pulling at the cut he himself had caused as he took him. Hannibal watched his face, filling his body as their orgasms built in waves of pleasure, his eyes shining with the same desperate knowledge that his was precisely where all their trials were supposed to lead them. The tears that fell upon Will’s face as Hannibal picked up the pace were the salve that healed the cracks in his heart, filling the places that had been shattered in the moments before the one they were sharing. Hannibal’s breath became ragged as his hips stuttered, his orgasm rushing down on him like a locomotive. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around Will’s straining cock, stroking him from root to tip in the rhythm of his thrusts. He drank in Will’s cries, stealing the sounds from his lips as they rode their climax, triggered seconds apart by Will’s body tightening around him as Will’s orgasm crashed into him. The peaks of white hot pleasure crested as they kissed, Hannibal’s hips rocking as Will felt the sudden wetness fill him. Crying out, lost in his own pleasure, his last coherent thought was how much he liked the feeling of Hannibal’s emission inside him as they made love.

Exhausted, they managed to clean themselves up minimally as they wound around one another. They slept in a tired tangle of limbs, finding their way to one another, even in sleep.

***

Will woke to the sun streaming through the windows, the other side of the bed cold beside him. His heart clenching, he dressed quickly wincing at the soreness in his muscles and stitches as he moved. He had never felt so alive as he did in that moment, so at peace with the world around him, if only he could find the man that made him feel so. He wandered from room to room, but the house was empty. Stunned, Will made his way back to the bedroom, his eyes vacant as he crawled back beneath the covers. _It couldn't have all been a dream._ He pulled the pillow Hannibal had slept on towards him, his nose burying into the fabric as he breathed in the scent of the absent man. His heart strained in his chest as he took deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. 

Pulling the pillow closer, he heard the crumple of paper from beneath his arm. Trembling, he pulled a roughly torn sheet out from beneath his arm, smiling as the familiar looping handwriting that graced the page. Smoothing it out, he began to read:

_Will,_

_Last night held more forgiveness and healing that I could have ever hoped to receive from you. Although you may not understand just yet, I fear that I must leave before you wake, and for a time you may not choose to follow me. Know that I understand this decision. When you have had time to process all that has transpired, and should you still seek the comfort we can find in one another, by all means, come to me. You will find me in the place that we discussed so many months ago when I told you of the machinations of my memory palace. I shall wait for you there every day. I can only hope you know what you want, and that you want it enough to chase it to the other side of the world._

_Should you find me and decide that I am not forgiven, I will understand. If you decide to kill me, please make the act as intimate as the time we shared wrapped in one another last night. A great love and betrayal deserves a great death, and there will be no better story of love, pain, and redemption than the one we can supply one another. Be gentle with your kisses, and swift with your choices. I shall wait for you as long as it takes._

_Until we meet again,_

_Hannibal Lecter_

Will read the words several times before a small smile graced his handsome features. _It's just like him to make it a challenge_ he thought as he reread Hannibal’s words. _But he doesn't understand that I don't want to wait._ He stood and dressed before making his way down to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. The trip he would need to plan would take some work to put together, but he knew that finding the man he couldn’t live without would make the arduous task set before him worth every effort. He pulled his laptop to him and began to research flights to Italy. The sooner the better. 

_Love waits_ , he mused, his eyes skimming over the list of flight schedules. _But it won’t wait forever. And should we choose to fall into the darkest path, at least we can fall together._


End file.
